Forgotten Allies
by MB234
Summary: The Fellowship has just entered the forest of Lothlórien after the fall of Gandalf. Legolas runs into an old friend, someone he never imagined he'd see again. Will Legolas realize what has always been right in front of him or will he watch his lady fall into the arms of another? Legolas/Boromir/OC Rated M for graphc sex in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! So this is my first LOtR fanfc, and I hope you all deem it sufficent. All of my stories really are labors of love, so please take the tme to review, favorite, all the goods stuff. ****Please enjoy!**

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The Fellowship trudged through the heavily wooded silver forest, the golden canopy of the tree tops spreading over them like a woven blanket, allowing sparse patches of the late afternoon sunlight to escape to the forest floor.

They walked in silence, Legolas in the lead followed closely behind by Gimli and Boromir after him, the band of once merry little hobbits clustered behind them and Aragorn bringing up the rear.

They all silently mourned Gandalf, the company quiet, without outbursts of laughter and song. They longed for a reprise from this constant sadness, a sweet wind to blow away the dark clouds that had gathered since they lost Gandalf.

Having left the mines of Moria they were just inside the outskirts of the Elven forest of Lothlórien where they would undoubtedly have council with Elven Lord Celeborn and his lady, Galadriel.

But for now they marched on, a silent somber procession making its way through the rich peaceful wood. Legolas had been on guard ever since dawn, for he had sensed an extra presence. The entity concealed itself well, for he could barely track it, but it seemed to be near.

It was stationary for the most part, staying ahead of them and moving at its own pace, not entirely threatening, but still it was something to draw his attention.

A slight breeze picked up and a smell reached his nostrils, something sweet as though laced with honey and vaguely familiar.

Legolas turned his head and warily scanned the tree line, but finding nothing imposing he let it slip from his mind, trying to tune out Gimli's heavy labored grunts as he lumbered down the well worn forest path. _If he was any louder he would scare the birds away, _Legolas thought, amused.

As they continued, the road took a slight curve and Legolas got the distinct feeling he was being watched. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and his hand unconsciously tightened on the trusty worn wood bow he held at his side, ready to put it to use if need be.

Suddenly the breeze picked up and there was that scent again. It teased at the edge of his memory, a name he was trying to grasp at. A name from a long time ago, when he was still considered a young man, a name friendly to him.

Just then a slender hooded figure stepped out and blocked his path, brandishing a finely crafted silver sword to his throat. A low voice spoke from beneath the hood "Do not trod another step, for it may be your last"

Legolas shifted slightly, something about that sword struck a chord in his memories. The design of the hilt, the slim pale hand that held it in a steady grip, the scent of sweet honey, the voice that spoke, it was all too familiar.

He heard Gimli, Boromir and Aragorn all stop and tense behind him, no doubt with their hands poised over their weapons.

Boromir spoke, "We carry no ill will for you stranger, stand down or you will suffer-"

Legolas interrupted him, "Peace Boromir" then he turned back to the figure, "let us pass unharmed for we are weary and have faced many trials already"

Suddenly the grip of the sword relaxed, the figure took a step forward and said in a disbelieving voice, "Legolas, is that you?"

A white hand reached from within the dark green cloak to draw back the hood and a familiar feminine face greeted him, pretty features framed by long dark hair, sparkling celadon green eyes and a wide bright smile.

"Aiyla!" Legolas exclaimed, surprised. Aiyla had been a companion of his many years ago, when they were both young. He remembered their adventures well, holding her hand while she trotted across bubbling streams, teaching her how to aim a bow and her teaching him how to brandish a sword, though he never took to it like she did.

From behind Boromir drew in a breath, no doubt regretting his hastily spoken coarse words.

Legolas and Aiyla embraced, Legolas reveling in the feel of her small lithe body against his. It had been a long time since he'd been intimate, in any capacity.

Legolas turned to the rest of his companions, saying "This is my good friend, Aiyla. She is half elven, and we have had many great adventures together, but those are stories for another time. Though some adventures are better left forgotten" This got an enchanting laugh from Aiyla, a beautiful laugh she had, like water flowing over smooth stones.

Introductions were made, after Aiyla apologized for being so hostile. Aragorn bowed low when his turn came, Gimli flashed her what was supposed to be a charming smile, and Boromir took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. The hobbits all grinned at her, Merry and Pippin asking her things like if she had any food on her or what her cloak was made of.

Aiyla seemed absolutely charmed by them and as they walked on she seemed to grow fond of them. "I visited the Shire once" she said to the hobbits, "lovely little place it was, and the parties, you hobbits can throw a party" at which point Merry puffed out his chest ridiculously and Pippin grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Boromir took her side then, drawing her attention away from the Halflings "You must have journeyed far to seek council this day. Where are you from?"

"I reside in Mirkwood, though honestly I'm not quite sure where home is anymore. The places where I feel most at home are in the forests and fields untouched by hostile spirits. Where is home for you?" she replied.

"Minas Tirith, the city of my forefathers" Boromir replied.

"Ah yes, the White City. I have never been, but I hope to see it one day" she glanced over at Boromir, seeming to study his face, "I have heard of you Boromir, Captain of the White Tower. You are greatly respected for your devotion to your people. My father was born in Gondor. Will you tell me about Minas Tirith?" she asked.

Boromir smiled, "I would love to, but first tell me about your heritage, I have never met someone who is half elven"

Aiyla smiled up at him and said "My mother is Elvish, but my father was a mortal man. He died when I was young, but I cherish the memories I have of him. He was a nobleman, proud and loyal. He laughed a lot."

"I am sorry, he must have been a great man" Boromir replied.

"Hmm" she said thoughtfully gazing at the forest around her, "I'm not. Death is a part of the balance," she ran her fingers over the smooth bark of the trees as they passed, "Life is a cycle, and everything comes in pairs. For every good thing we experience, there is a bad thing. For every dark place, there is one filled with light. Besides, what is the journey of life if there aren't a few bumps in the road?"

Boromir glanced at her, she was quite beautiful, and tall for a woman. Her pale heart shaped face was turned to the sun, its rays sparking in her bright green eyes and straight dark hair.

"You are very wise" Boromir said as he drew his eyes away from her.

"It comes with age" she said smiling.

Eventually Aiyla and Legolas fell in step, walking beside each other. "So," she said, bumping her shoulder against his as they walked, "how did this company come together? I like your companions, though I'm surprised you tolerate the dwarf"

Legolas smiled, "We were all in Rivendell for a council with Elrond to discuss many things, dark things that are encroaching upon middle earth" he said.

A shadow passed over Aiyla's face as she spoke, "Yes, even in Mirkwood there is darkness. Its once bright paths are shaded with nasty evil clouds"

Legolas frowned, "I hate to think of my realm suffering under the shadow of Mordor"

Aiyla replied "yes, that is part of the reason that I have come to seek Galadriel's council. Those of us in Mirkwood need to unite with those in Lórien. Also I love this forest, so pure and peaceful. Makes all your troubles melt away"

As they had been talking silent marching scores of elves had come up and flanked the companions. Silently they all walked on to meet Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.

Aiyla walked across the wide lawn atop which a fountain, lit by softly glowing silver lamps, bubbled and spilled into a basin of silver. She'd had to climb many ladders and crossed many flets to reach this place; the dwelling of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. The time of her council was almost at hand.

She nodded in greeting to the Elf-wardens seated at the base of the mighty silver tree, tall and handsome in their grey mail and white cloaks, and one whistled a clear note from a small horn.

Aiyla started up the ladder; it was a long climb but she did not mind. Finally she reached a wide _talan_ upon which a large house was perched. She walked into the oval shaped chamber breached in the center by the tapering top of the tree upon which it was built.

Elves were filing in, filling their seats for the Fellowship who would have their counsel after her. As she entered Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel rose in greeting.

Lord Celeborn spoke first, "Aiyla, it has been a long time since you have been in our fair Lothlórien. What brings you to this realm?"

"Mirkwood, my Lord" Aiyla replied, "the growing threat of Mordor weighs heavy on Elvenking Thranduil's mind, as well as mine. Lothlórien stands like a beacon of hope in the looming darkness. Those in Mirkwood seek protection; an alliance from Lothlórien."

Lady Galadriel smiled a soft, kind smile and replied, "Of course, dear Aiyla, Mirkwood and Lothlórien shall be allies"

Lady Galadriel leaned in close to her, placing a hand on her arm and continued, "A word of advice; the one they call Boromir desires you. I know of your desire for a child" Aiyla flushed and looked down, "Fear not, my dear, Boromir would make a good father, strong and able to protect you. Heed that advice when the time comes"

Aiyla looked up into Galadriel's blue, blue eyes and nodded, "Thank you, my lady" she said. In those eyes she saw her future, both immediate and far off, and it shook her to the core. Yes she would have the daughter she had always wanted, but would it all end happily? That she could not see.

Aiyla thanked Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel and took her leave of them, the Lady's words ringing in her head.

Yes, tonight it would happen. Tonight, after years of searching for the right man, she would get her daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Boromir strode through the rich woods of Lothlórien, marveling at how beautiful this forest was, even at night. He had been restless, his legs refusing to stay still, and thought a walk would help to calm him.

Galadriel's voice in his mind earlier that night had spoken of hope. Hope for the future, for his father, hope for him. Boromir desperately wanted to believe that there was hope left. He had to, or else everything he held dear would fade into oblivion. His beloved Gondor would be forgotten, and the blame –right or wrong- would be on him.

Yet as he walked through this tranquil wood he found he had never been at such peace; it seemed fitting in a place like this. Years of battle and bloodshed seemed to be wiped clean from his memories, leaving only harmony and a hunger for beauty.

Boromir let his fingers linger on the rough bark of the trees as he passed them. The touch brought back memories of Aiyla, of what she'd said to him earlier that day.

The ghost of her voice, soft and silky, rang in his ears as though she were whispering near him, _'Life is a cycle, and everything comes in pairs. For every good thing we experience, there is a bad thing. For every dark place, there is one filled with light'_

So wise, so beautiful, and such grace! Aiyla filled his thoughts and he let his feet guide him blindly, as fantasies of her overtook him.

Boromir found himself at the edge of a small clearing, a small waterfall pouring down into a rippling, clear pond. It was full of silver moon beams that bounced off the smooth gray tree trunks and reflected in the pearly surface of the pool. The golden leaves that crowned the trees sat like dim, shifting clouds in the night sky.

Boromir slowly stepped forward beyond the line of trees, taking in the beauty of the little moonlit dell.

Suddenly he noticed that he was not alone.

A tall figure stood with its back to him. A lithe, pale, slender figure with long, straight hair darker than the night sky above them.

It seemed the figure was in the process of undressing. Her sword in its sheath lay with a pair of boots and a belt that were strewn behind her, as well as her dark green cloak and grey leggings. She was left in only a light green tunic.

She turned and looked at him, her long black hair falling over her shoulder. Even in the moonlight he could see the pale green of her eyes sparkling.

Their eyes met and a flash of molten heat blazed through Boromir, going straight to his loins. How long had it been since he'd had a woman?

Too long.

Aiyla surveyed Boromir over her shoulder, studying his long light brown hair, his storm gray eyes. She noted his size, the wide chest, rippling arms and broad shoulders. He was larger than a normal man, and Aiyla had seen many men. Big men, small men, strong men, fat men. But none like Boromir.

Yes she had heard of him, of all his valiant deeds and unrivaled leadership in Gondor. But what she hadn't mentioned was that she also knew of his renowned size in the nether-regions, something dozens of women could attest to.

"My pardons Aiyla, I did not realize you were undressing" Boromir said, his voice a low rumble in his throat.

She gazed at him for a long while, looking him up and down. Boromir felt as if those celadon eyes were stripping him bare, down to his very soul.

When she finally spoke her voice was soft and sultry, "How long has it been since you've lain with a woman?"

Those words caused a second flame to lick down Boromir's belly, to his stiffening manhood. It was as if she could read his mind.

"A long time" Boromir replied in a gravelly voice, "and you?"

"Even longer" Aiyla said, a coy smile curling her lips.

Their eyes met again and Boromir knew he had to have her this night; he was lost in those green eyes. She took the edge of her tunic and pulled it up over her head, revealing pale thighs, a taught stomach, twin globes each topped with a pink nipple, and at the apex of her thighs were folds of glistening dark pink woman flesh.

Naked and beautiful she walked towards him, her silky dark hair flowing down her back and swirling around the curve of her waist. By the time she reached him Boromir's breath was coming heavy, his muscles taught.

She reached for the clasp at his throat, her slender fingers brushing the flesh of his neck. The second and third clasps came undone and his leather overtunic slid off onto the ground. He now wore a scarlet and gold quilted tunic, with a shirt of mail under that, dark leggings and sturdy boots.

Boromir stripped off his tunic and mail, his chiseled chest, chorded with muscle, now bare to Aiyla. She lightly touched him, her fingers tracing a path from his collar bone down to the waist of his leggings. There were assorted scars along the way that she ran her fingers lightly over, the more sensitive scar tissue causing him to shiver under her touch.

Her small slim fingers slipped under the waistband of his leggings and Boromir groaned low in his chest. He helped her remove them, along with his boots and then he was naked as well.

He reached for her then, brushing his fingertips down the curve of her breast, down the side of her ribcage and curved his hand around the dip in her waist. Boromir pulled Aiyla to him and smirked at the small sound that escaped her.

He bent his lips down to hers and kissed her, long and deep; she tasted better than any saccharine sweet he'd ever had. He groaned into her mouth when he felt her tongue caress his. He entwined his hands into her hair and it ran through his fingers like silk. The scent of rich, luscious honey enveloped him.

Aiyla reached up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Boromir's neck, and she felt his erection pushing insistently into her stomach. Boromir kissed her harder, twining his thick arms around her waist and pressing her to him, causing a sweet blistering heat to bloom in the pit of Aiyla's stomach.

In an instant, Boromir had Aiyla flat on her back and was kissing his way down her neck. She moaned and felt that sweet heat building deep in her belly. It truly had been too long.

Boromir reached up and cupped one of her breasts in his hand; it fit perfectly in his palm. He ran his thumb over the pink nipple, causing Aiyla to gasp. Music to his ears.

Suddenly she took his length in her hand, her firm grip eliciting a groan from him, and pumped it. He gasped when her fingers brushed the sensitive head. She guided him to her entrance and glanced up at him.

In response he took hold himself and teased her slit, rubbing the head back and forth between her lips but not fully penetrating. She let out a frustrated groan and shifted her hips, trying to move him to that sweet spot where he could sink fully inside her.

He smirked and suddenly the head slid into her, and Boromir gasped, her exquisite, tight heat surprising him. Unable to hold himself back, he slowly pushed in, being careful not to hurt her. He knew he was large, former lovers could attest to that, and he didn't want to cause discomfort.

Aiyla gasped as Boromir slid into her. He was so large! So amazingly large, every inch of her felt stretched and full.

As he went in further Aiyla moved her head side to side, face a mask of pleasure, as she moaned "Ai! Mae meleth! Ai!" Boromir did not speak elvish, but one did not have to know the language to hear the pleasure in her voice. When he bottomed out they were both panting and shivering.

Aiyla's body seemed caught between heaven and earth, the only thing keeping her from soaring into the heavens out of ecstasy was Boromir's weight on top of her, his heat inside her, and the pleasure sparking from their union.

Boromir pulled out slowly and then pushed back in even slower, drawing small cries from Aiyla. She ran her hands down his back, the strong muscles shifting as he moved inside her.

Boromir was drowning, drowning in pleasure and bliss. He fell into that old familiar rhythm, rock himself in and out to the time of her moans and his grunts, seeking that sweet release that would bring contentment to them both.

Behind the dell, hidden in the trees, Legolas stood spellbound, watching his oldest friend make love to the human, Boromir. He had taken a walk to enjoy the beauty of the forest when he'd come upon the clearing.

The sight, even the smell, of such pleasure being had awakened something old and long-dormant inside of him and Legolas felt the sharp prickle of jealously, somewhat to his surprise. What had Boromir done to convince Aiyla he'd make a suitable bedmate?

Their grunts and moans increased and Legolas knew they were both close. Boromir's thrusts were becoming more erratic and forceful, and Aiyla was moaning each time their flesh met with a squishing sound.

"Tolo hi, nînmeleth!" Aiyla called out, her voice colored with pleasure from her impending release.

"_Come now, my love" _She'd said. Legolas felt anger - and again - jealousy creep into his mind. What right did Boromir have to be called 'my love'? Love was what Aiyla and Legolas had, not a night of carnal pleasure.

They both climaxed then, Boromir letting out a long, passionate groan and Aiyla a moan as Boromir's seed shot deep into her. Legolas seethed in the silence that followed afterwards. He watched as Boromir shifted so that they were lying next to her. Within minutes he was asleep. Had it truly been so long since his last sexual encounter that the human's one climax left him exhausted?

It seemed the human's stamina was not up to par. Aiyla stroked Boromir's face and slowly rose from his arms, her naked body silhouetted by the glittering waterfall behind her. She dressed quickly and walked towards the woods.

Right to where Legolas was standing.


End file.
